


What it Costs

by sailor8t



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailor8t/pseuds/sailor8t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything has a price. Farewell, Lexa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What it Costs

_This is what it costs to be alive_ , Clarke reminded herself.

It was her habit before sleeping. Not at first, because despite the two idiots – Glen and the guy no one knew – who died in the landing weren't her responsibility. She warned them, and they made the wrong choice. But starting with Atom - "Please," he begged, and she did what had to be done because no one else, not even Bellamy, would – she remembered each night everyone who died at her hands.

She thought the night of Atom's death was the worst. People died on the Ark, but virtually all the deaths at human hands were bloodless. There was one second and they were gone, tumbling into eternity. Clarke saw people die up close; it was part of her medical training. Not everyone could be saved.

None of those people looked like Atom did, though and she didn't have to add to their pain before they died. Atom, though… the blood pumped sluggishly from his throat. Most of it ended on the ground. She couldn't give him any other comfort because all of his skin was burned, and there was nothing to say except the final words. Clarke did that for him while Bellamy watched, gave him the Traveler's Blessing while he bled to death. She hoped it comforted Atom, because it brought her none; the only relief was when his harsh breathing stopped.

That night, she didn't sleep. She sat and stared at nothing and reminded herself, _This is what it costs to be alive._

Every night after that, before she closed her eyes, she reminded herself of that. Wells died one night and Charlotte the next, and she couldn't cry. Tears were weakness, and they couldn't spare any of that here. _This is what it costs to be alive._

It seemed like every day added to the toll. They tortured a grounder. Destroyed a village. Blew up a bridge, killing soldiers. She tended the dying when Murphy came back infected. She had a moment of hope when her symptoms manifested, but knew she would survive. _This is what it costs to be alive._

She reminded herself again when they left the drop ship and smelled hydrazine and burnt flesh, but had no time to tally the loss before seeing red smoke. _What the hell?_

100 – 100 – 100

Months later, Clarke continued to remind herself, _This is what it costs to be alive_. She told herself that more times than she could count while she worked to become someone else. They were safe and she didn't want them to watch her die.

That was the plan when she left, to find someplace and curl up to die. She wanted death to be slow and painful; she didn't deserve the easy way out a bullet offered. If she remembered her dead before sleeping, she wouldn't sleep at all. After two days, she woke up hungry, cold, and damp, and told herself, _This is what it costs to be alive_.

And now, after so much, after convincing Lexa that violence should not be answered with violence, she was locked in her suite, as far from Murphy as she could get, her hands covered with Lexa's dried black blood, all she had left of her. Titus took Lexa's body and left her with Murphy, and all Clarke could think was, _This is what it costs to be alive._

-30-


End file.
